The music filled the space. Some people were moving with it – others were moving to the music within. Interspersed amongst the music, you heard laughter and conversation and moans and screams. It seemed to just add to the music – it was almost part of the music.
Unlike other events, I had lots of permission to take photos – to capture the moments people were having with rope, with impact, with someone. So I wandered around, finding the light, finding the moment while viewing these moments through my lens, and snapped photos.
Some of the scenes were just scenes. They looked like they were having fun, but lacked energy – lacked connection. Other scenes, you couldn’t help but feel the energy flowing from the people in it. The laughter, the moans, the intensity, almost knocked you on your ass it was that powerful.
One such scene was between two people that I know. She perched on the edge of a spanking bench, her dress was pushed up exposing her thighs and her pussy, and the top was pulled down allowing her breasts to fall out. Her top – her sadist – gently caressed the tops of her thighs with a leather slapper. As he walked around her dragging the leather over them, she would twitch in anticipation of the slap – the smack – of the leather against her thighs. Her head was tipped back with her eyes closed – her chest rose and fell with each anticipation. His eyes as he watched her body react gleamed with amusement until he finally brought the leather slapper down hard on her thighs, eliciting a moan mixed with pain and pleasure. Then he would start his game again. The next time it was with a cane, then a different cane, then back to the leather slapper, then to a thuddy toy. Sometimes it was her thighs – other times it was her breasts. At one point, he paused. He bent over her, grabbed her hair in order to hold her head in place, then kissed her hard – a kiss that claimed her as his – reminded her that she was his.
I wished I had gotten permission to shoot them because it was beautiful. So many were not sure what they were witnessing. They weren’t sure if they should be aroused or upset by the way he was claiming her. Then there were others, like me, who understood the intimacy they were watching and found a longing unfurling inside as they watched the scene.
A bit later, my friend came up to see how my night was going. I told him fine – then commended him on how well his night was going. “I wished I had asked to capture your scene because I could see the sadist inside you playing with her – and the joy were getting from it.” He smirked at my remark, then asked in seriousness if I could really see his inner sadist engage. I said I could, then he explained it had been too long for them. Too much work – too many interferences – too little time together to play and all. Tonight was their first night to shift that paradigm. And shift it they did.